


It's Been a Wild Season

by TallFlower



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Fairy Tale Elements, Fairy Tale Retellings, Magic, Swans, Tragedy, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-11-23
Packaged: 2019-08-28 05:37:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TallFlower/pseuds/TallFlower
Summary: Feeling her influence over King Gabriel slip away from her as he spends more time with his children, and still desperate to leave her mark on the world, Moira O'Deorain performs her last act of magnificence; to have swans swim again in a long forgotten lake...A retelling of the ancient Irish myth "Oidheadh Chlainne Lir" (The Children of Lir) — a cautionary tale of how jealousy is no more than feeling alone against smiling enemies, and how it can destroy oneself — for the folklore/fairytale-inspired Overwatch zine, Story of Heroes.





	It's Been a Wild Season

Beneath the cool shade of a tree, Moira had made herself a small throne amongst the gnarled, twisting roots. She had placed a pillow beneath her, so her clothes would not be dirtied by the dry soil, and her back was propped up comfortably against the mossy bark. On her lap was one of her white rabbits. As still as a statue, it was, its nose not daring to twitch as her long fingers combed through its soft, fatty hide. One of her favourite pets – she could not bear to leave it back home while she enjoyed the summer day. So she had brought it along with her, much to its protest. But eventually, it saw things her way.

The blue sky stretched on for what seemed like eternity – not a cloud in sight. Above her, the sun was a golden orb, its warm rays shining down on the countryside below. To the unaccustomed eye, the dale was a beautiful swathe of rolling green divided by walls of mossy grey stone, picturesque by any standards. A series of lakes with hilly crowns rose and fell like waves in the sea. Littered amongst the emerald green grass, pink clovers swayed with the gentle breeze, bringing a sweet scent to her nose. Moira breathed in the aroma, closing her eyes and enjoying the sensation of the wind caressing her pale skin.

With the sound of rustling leaves and the soft chirping of birds, came a louder, sharper sound. Moira’s eyes to snapped open to investigate where it had come from. In the distance, she could see four figures bobbing across the tall grass, headed toward a nearby lake. Two of them bounded ahead of the others, sprinting as fast as they could – no doubt engaged in a childish race. The others jogged casually behind them, giggling gleefully.

That day, the lake lay as flat as a mirror, without a single ripple, as if time had frozen around it, trapped to perfectly reflect the sky evermore. Moira knew that, once upon a time, swans swam across its calm waters, but that story had ended long ago. They were hunted out of the land for their beautiful, snow-white feathers, which were used to make coats.

But the stillness of the lake was soon disrupted, as the two sprinting figures made it to the water’s edge. One had finally broken free of their tie – a man of raven hair, a bit smaller than the rest – racing to the lake first. He victoriously lifted their arms in the air, their scar-covered arms clearly visible in the daylight, green eyes shining.

“I won!” Moira heard him shout, before he was unceremoniously tackled into the lake by his competitor. The two figures disappeared beneath the water with a large splash, breaking the peace that had reigned before. After a while, both their heads popped up to the surface, the man who had tackled the other cackling helplessly.  His crimson serape floated around his neck as he tried to stay afloat. He was entirely drenched, water still dripping from his brown beard.

The others – women of differing ages, one who had her dark hair bobbed to her jaw, with golden braids decorating certain strands and a black mark around one of her eyes, the other with bright blonde hair messily tied up in a ponytail – caught up, laughing like crows as they, too, jumped into the lake.

In her arms, Moira felt the rabbit’s muscles tense at the sound. She whispered and cooed, digging her fingers deeper into its fatty hide to calm it. She sat up, rocking it as she glared at the quartet and their ruckus. She held her breath behind pursed lips to steel herself as she watched one other figure walking calmly towards the lake. He was much older than the rest, his hair cut short on his scalp and his face littered with scars.

_ Gabriel, _ she thought, the name leaving a bitter taste. For of course it was him; who else would follow those four imbeciles besides him?

Upon reaching the lakeside, he smiled, arms crossed over his broad chest, watching everyone whoop and holler. His face was lit up brighter than the very sun under which they all stood.

For a time, she had made him smile the same way with her parlour tricks; she had played nice. She tried to mother them all, just Ana had done before her passing. But over time it had become clear it was all an act, and his smile had faded. It was clear she was no longer a welcome presence, and now they avoided her as though she were a plague.

Rather unsubtly she was no longer invited on outings with Gabriel and his precious children, nor even told about them until they were racing out of the door. He’d dedicate all of his time to them and would only give her a passing glance at breakfast. One laced with realization; that no matter how hard she tried, she could never fill the hole that was lost. That she would never be the great Ana Amari.

Instead of love and adore her, people feared her;  _ “She’s a witch, she’s evil,” _ they would say, and as they spoke, more and more people believed the words. Gabriel was slowly starting to become one of them. She could feel it within her bones. She’d always see men like Jack whispering into Gabriel’s ear, sharing the lies told about her. Feeding into the paranoia.

He was only scared because he knew Moira was more powerful and more useful than he, she knew this, but nevertheless felt powerless as the tides began to turn against her. Steadily, painfully.

So, seeing that smile once again appear for those  _ eejits _ made Moira sick to her stomach. She was much more powerful, much more intelligent, and much more amusing than them. Why didn’t anyone _ see _ it? Why did everyone underestimate and underappreciate  _ her _ ?

She watched, their gleeful cries becoming white noise to her ears. The rabbit in her arms squirmed, letting out a frightened whine as Moira’s nails dug deeper into its fur. A plan began to form within her mind, causing her lips to curl into a wicked grin.

She’d make them see how glorious she could be. She’d make them all see her power.

And make them truly fear it.

 

xXx

 

In twilight, the surface of the lake was as smooth as black glass. The swans swam across the still water, the radiating ripples caught the moonlight.

A clear, beautiful day had been replaced by a damp, bleak night, and a light grey mist hung over the lake like a veil, swirling around Moira as she stood on the edge, watching with her right hand outstretched. The bones of a small, leporids animal lay at her feet, seemingly fresh. After the spell had been cast, her arm quaked, and she felt her very blood burn. She watched in mild curiosity as her skin and veins became lilac-coloured.

Moira took hold of her arm, cradling it as she collapsed to her knees. She let out a laugh under her strained breath as she heard footsteps nearing the scene.

“What have you done?” Moira heard Gabriel ask behind her, causing her laugh to grow louder and louder with each passing second. She rose back to her feet, glancing over her shoulder to see a man with hair of gold beside Gabriel. Jack, to her amusement, had come along with him, holding a weapon pointed in her direction.

Both of them stared at her, eyes wide and mouths hanging agape, watching her arm.

“You  _ monster _ – answer him!” Jack threatened, but he flinched as she glared at him, lowering the weapon in his hands.

_ Cowards, _ she thought, watching the pair of them.  _ Too afraid of the unknown, too stupid to have seen my brilliance beforehand. _

She relished in seeing their terror, standing to her full height. “I answer to no one; no man, no woman, no child, and certainly not to fools,” she told them. With the moon to her back, Moira stretched out her arms. The mist began to gather and dance about her legs, slowly enveloping her, as the two of them backed away.

“ _ Géill do mo thoil! _ ” she cried, her voice so loud that it pierced through the valleys and made the earth shake in fury, as the mist enveloping her body until it dissipated, accompanied by the sound of laughter and water splashing. And with it, Moira was gone, as though she had never existed. But that was not true; Moira had made sure to leave her mark upon the world, so that no one would  _ ever _ forget her.

And it was with a cry did Gabriel see the swans, and knew exactly what she had done. One was a dusty brown, it's chest an unusually rustic red, its body covered in both feathers and fluff; another was as dark as night, scars littering its body with a few feathers missing along one of its wings, and eyes as green as the grass around them; the youngest was equally as dark but had odd, golden markings down it neck and eye; and the final one was a hint of gold, it’s feathers sticking up, as though ungroomed.

The only other sound to break the eerie silence that had fallen over the land was the slow, methodical beat of the swans’ legs as they gracefully cut through the water.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to the Storywatch team for having me on board! Fairytales and myths have always inspired me, so writing this was nothing more than a pleasure. It's just a shame that, unless you have the book, you will not get to enjoy the utterly stunning artwork accompanying it. Still, I hope you all enjoyed (and encouraged some of you to check out the original tale).


End file.
